


The Avengers aren’t very good at Christmasing (they do try though)

by Dark_K



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Christmas, Families of Choice, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:51:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2841953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_K/pseuds/Dark_K
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or: the one where Tony decides they are going to have a perfect Christmas even if it kills them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Avengers aren’t very good at Christmasing (they do try though)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boostilinski (brunaflorido)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brunaflorido/gifts), [boostilinski](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boostilinski/gifts).



> CHRISTMAS TIME!
> 
> I didn't quite mean for this to be so angsty, but there you have it.
> 
> I hope you guys like it!

**The Avengers aren’t very good at Christmasing (they do try though)**

Tony hates Christmas with a passion – that’s the first thing that has to be said before anything else. He hates it. Christmas means family and feelings and emotions, and he had always hated it, because his classmates would come to school, and later on college, telling about this fight or that argument; this stupid gift or that amazing surprise, and he would be so fucking jealous, because he had never had that. Christmas with Howard Stark meant a few expensive, useful gifts, dinner with a whole lot of people he didn’t know, and a distant smile from his mom.

Later on, when they were gone, Obie had actually managed to pull off a few cool Christmases between them, but even that only ever did the whole thing more bitter now, because the very few positive images he has associated with Christmas are crapped all over from Stane’s betrayal, and so he hates Christmas.

He hates being alone more, though, he’s man enough to admit it, and ever since Pepper…

He just doesn’t want to be alone right now. That’s it.

So he decides to put all of his bad memories aside and have the best Christmas ever. The Tower is going to be like a freaking Christmas Land even if he has to go and hire an old bearded fat man to laugh in ho-ho-hos for the whole season, he doesn’t care.

This Christmas is going to be amazing, and that’s all there is to it.

**X**

Steve tries really hard to avoid clichés in his life. He already has to live through enough of them, and he really doesn’t want to come off as the tragic hero or the out-of-his-time soldier.

It isn’t always easy, it isn’t always pleasant, but he likes to think to manages.

After the Chitauri invasion, he had, as Stark would most likely put it, taken his head out of his ass and tried to live in the century he was in. He had tried really hard not to let himself give into depression, he had made new friends (even though he’s not sure Natasha counts. He likes to think she does, that she is his friend through and through, but it isn’t easy to know what’s really going on with her), and, yes, he had been looking for Bucky these past few months, but just because Bucky is here _now_ – he’s not chasing a ghost of the past or dwelling on people he can’t bring back.

However, it’s a day before Christmas Eve and he’s done. He’s done being okay, and he’s done pretending everything is going to be fine, and he’s done pretending _he_ is fine – because it’s one day before Christmas Eve and it’s just a little bit too hard to keep the whole happy and fine routine he had managed to keep up so far.

Truth is it sucks.

It sucks being alone this time of the year, and it has sucked ever since he woke up from the ice.

He had never really had the chance to do the whole Christmas thing right – when he was little, his dad didn’t have enough money to pull it off; and when he got a little older, his mom had even less; and then it was just him and Bucky, and Bucky was way too cool to care about Christmas – his best friend would usually find a girl somewhere, arrange a date and have fun as always. When he woke up in the 21st century, he had had no time to actually set in somewhere to do Christmas.

It didn’t bug him a whole lot before, but this year, for some reason – it might be the idea that now he _has_ friends (even though they’re not with him), or maybe seeing Bucky again and making him feel homesick for a time that is no longer there – but it’s hitting harder than before.

And spending it alone is going to suck.

That is the reason why, when he gets a text inviting him to the Avengers Tower ( _Avengers Tower_. Who even gave Stark the power to call it that?!) for Christmas and New Year’s festivities, he actually decides to go.

What’s the worst that could happen, really?

**X**

Natasha truly doesn’t try to come off as she knows she does, it’s just her natural countenance to look a tiny bit annoyed all the time. This tendency has a way of getting worse whenever she’s around Stark, and now it’s not any different.

She stares at her phone and truly considers just ignoring the message, but truth be told, if she got it then everyone else on their “team” (and yes, she is thinking it with air quotes here, because they are a lot of things, but team isn’t really one of them) got it too, and she’s sure at least one of them will bite. Bruce is sure to go, and maybe Steve, and anyone alone with Stark is at risk.

There are so few people with common sense in their little attempt at a team, she can’t really risk them being taken away by Stark and his crazy ideas.

She has to wonder how come Pepper didn’t stop him, though.

Sighing, she sends a text back telling him she and Clint will be there.

Christmas is always kind of lame anyway.

**X**

Bruce stares at the small screen and frowns – he is quite sure he would have remembered it if he and Tony had agreed on hosting any kind of Christmas festivities, and they surely hadn’t.

Actually, he hadn’t really seen Tony for at least two weeks now, even though they live in the same tower – the whole place is kind of enormous, though, and, truly, going a few weeks with no news from Tony isn’t that unusual or that uncommon. Tony sending a mass-text inviting everyone for a Christmas bash, though, is.

He thinks about looking for Tony to discuss this whole Christmas things, but this smells like one of Tony’s schemes, and just going with it is always easier than trying to calm him down or making him see reason. The only one who can actually do it is Pepper, and if Tony is already sending text messages, he’s found a way to talk her into it and then there’s no saving anyone involved.

He does what he’s been doing for a long while now, ever since Tony showed up in his life, really – he accepts what he can’t change, and says yes to his invite.

**X**

Clint doesn’t even have a choice in his going to Stark’s for Christmas, because Natasha has already agreed to it, but that doesn’t make it any less weird for him – he can’t remember ever having a Christmas before.

Being an orphan and basically raised in a circus isn’t conductive for happy Christmas memories, so he’s all up for whatever version of Christmas Stark can come up with – mostly he’s picturing girls and booze, which is fine, but as long as he has Nat everything is cool.

When he tells Natasha this, she stares at him almost pityingly, and that confuses him more, but whatever.

The world has changed so much around him these past few months that Christmas at Stark’s (Avengers Tower. What the hell is that man thinking?) sounds like a good enough place to not care about Christmas as any other.

**X**

Ever since coming to Earth again, Thor has been most intrigued by some of their traditions, and Christmas is something he is actually looking forward to – or he had been, until he finally understood the meaning of it: families getting together and celebrating, brothers and sisters reuniting, people sharing their time together, getting closer and loving each other – things he hadn’t been able to do for such a long time.

Loki’s fall, his madness, his return as a prisoner of Asgard, his refusal to believe they were brothers above everything else – his death. All of it had taken its toll on him: he knew he wasn’t the same he had been before, and he knew his parents saw it.

Jane saw it.

She looked at him as if he was something fragile and breakable, and he was the Mighty Thor, he wasn’t fragile, except, right now, he was.

He is.

Loki was such a big part of him, of his life. His other half, his brother, the one to pull him back when he was at the edge, to talk him forward when he considered giving up.

He had always known his friends didn’t see Loki the way he did, and he had never stopped to think that it might bother him, that it might make Loki think he was an outsider, an outcast. He had never really saw Loki outside of what _Loki_ meant for _him_ , and never the other way around, and now his brother is gone, and the whole Christmas tradition seems so painful.

Jane says she doesn’t celebrate Christmas, because she’s an atheist. He has some trouble grasping that, but accepts it – it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to try it, though, to see how families interact with each other during this time.

It’s a form of punishment and he knows it, but he wants to feel it – he wants to feel Loki’s absence and he wants to feel guilty about not having been a better brother, he wants it.

Therefore, when Stark sends him and Jane a text, inviting them for the Holidays, Jane politely refuses, but encourages him to go, understanding as she is of what he’s feeling, and knowing what he needs sometimes better than he does himself.

He sends his conformation and prepares to travel to New York.

Maybe being with his comrades in arm on this planet will lessen the pain of having losing his only brother.

**X**

The halls are all decked with boughs of holly, and people are going to be jolly in here even if it killed them.

There’s a huge Christmas tree in the main living room, and a smaller one in the entrance hall. He has piles and piles of presents all over the floor, and every single one of his companions got a whole floor to call their own as a primary gift on this season.

People are going to be happy, and this Christmas will be awesome, no matter what. He even actually considered hiring the Santa, but then, when he thought about it for a while, it just sounded a bit creepy, having a guy in a huge beard following them around – Jarvis, however, was in charge of playing Christmas songs around the clock, bringing cheer and joy and whatever the hell else people are supposed to feel during this holiday.

There will be happiness _or else_.

The first ones to show up are Romanov and Barton. Tony shows them to their room, offers each of them a Christmas hat, which Natasha doesn’t even deign to actually take, and Clint jams on his head with a smirk.

Good enough.

He leaves them to set up in their rooms, and Bruce comes out of his own floor – in which he has been living for the past fifteen months – to see what the commotion is about. He looks delighted to see Natasha, which is already good enough in Tony’s book.

There is cheer being had right now in this house, and that’s the point of this whole shebang.

A few minutes later sees Rogers at his door. He looks a little less confused at the ridiculous amount of technology in the place, and smiles softly when Jarvis greets him. As far as re-meetings go, it’s not a bad one, even if he does look overwhelmed when Tony shows him his floor. He thanks Tony, though, and it’s good. Calm and easy, like apple pie.

Thor is a bit more problematic, because when the Norse God stares at Tony, he sees a darkness in his eyes that Tony isn’t comfortable with. It’s too close to home, too reminiscent of loss, and pain, and suffering, and both of them smile tiredly at the other, clearly entering into a silent agreement that nothing will be spoken about their sorrow now. They know it, they recognize it in each other, and nothing else will be said about it – it is Christmas after all.

When they are all set up in their rooms, Tony decides to check on the details for supper and the presents and the whole decoration thing – he does know he sounds a tiny bit manic when he starts talking, his voice a bit too loud, his speaking a bit too fast, but he honestly can’t handle being anything else right now.

He is going to be happy even if it kill him.

Finally, they sit around the table to eat and share their cheer, and Tony looks around expecting to see happy faces and winning smiles – but reality is a tiny bit different.

Everyone looks a little… off.

Natasha is looking around, as if she’s not sure what is going to happen. Clint picks around his food, staring at the others, as if looking for social clues. Steve isn’t really looking at his food, but staring at the piles and piles of presents around the room, and Tony can practically _feel_ the judgment coming off of him in waves. Thor is picking at his food, looking forlorn and sad when he thinks no one’s looking.

Only Bruce looks content enough, eating his turkey distractedly, softly humming along the Christmas songs playing in the background.

“Okay, Stark, what’s your angle here?” Natasha finally asks.  

Tony doesn’t actually startle, because he has been kind of expecting something like this sooner or later, but he does pretend to be surprised for the sake of entertainment.

“Whatever do you mean, Miss Romanov?”

“Christmas dinners and presents and the floors in the tower – and, by the way, _Avengers Tower_? – what is going on here?”

The whole table has stopped and is now looking at him, and Tony thinks about deflecting.

He thinks about pointing out their saving the world together, and the homage they could be paying to Fury, who believed in them as a team and then died, and he could talk about Coulson’s death and what it meant for them as a team, and he could go on for days talking about random things with no meaning, but honestly?

He’s kind of tired.

So he sinks into his chair with a small, soft sigh, looks around the table and sees they are all looking at him, expecting a genial answer, something that will make them shake their heads or laugh uncomfortably and go on with their lives and does what they are not expecting: he tells them the truth.

That will throw them for a spin, huh?

“Pepper and I broke up”, he starts, taking a sip of his wine, not really looking at anyone.

He hears Bruce gasping quietly, and feels a bit guilty for not having told him sooner.

“She found out I was rebuilding one of the suits”, he shrugs awkwardly, “Actually, she found out I was trying to build a _better_ suit. One that could contain the Hulk, because I know Bruce sometimes feels awful about what he can do as the Other Guy, and I know he’d feel better knowing someone could take him on. She found out, and she really didn’t like it. She wanted me to give up on the Iron Man, and I can’t.”

He doesn’t tell them how this is him choosing a bunch of people who don’t even really like him over the one woman who loved him for him at all. He doesn’t tell them this is him choosing them over his own personal happiness. He doesn’t tell them this is him choosing to be a hero because he wants to be – not a soldier, but someone who can make a difference in the times of need, and not just as the guy paying the bills.

He doesn’t tell them it’s killing him inside, letting her go, but he has to do it because it’s better for _her_. He already put her in so much danger for so long.

He can’t do that anymore.

He doesn’t tell them that, but they know. Looking around the table, he knows they know. They know he’s a failure, they know he’s keeping all of his small broken pieces together by sheer force of will. They now know he actually needs them here because otherwise he would have no one.

They now know he needs to be Iron Man, and he needs _them_ to be the rest of a team dreamt by a dead man not a single one of them trusted.

“Loki is dead.”

Thor’s voice comes as surprise. Not really that he spoke, even if that is a surprise, but the tone of it, the way of it – broken and rough, as if he’s containing tears.

“He helped me take down the ones who were responsible for the death of our mother, and he died as a hero. I don’t…” he stops for a second, looking down, gathering his thoughts, “I’m not sure how to keep on living without him. I cannot bear to lose him twice. I’ve mourned him once, and now it’s happening again, and I don’t know how to do it. I don’t know how to let him go.”

“That’s…” Tony starts, but Steve clears his throat, looking down uncomfortably.

“I’ve never had a Christmas before. When I was growing up we never had any money, and then there was the war and… I wanted to see what it was like”, he smiles a bit, looking at the others around the table, “I didn’t _quite_ expected it to be like this.”

“I don’t think any of us has had Christmas in some time”, Bruce adds, shrugging a bit and sipping his water, “Our lives aren’t really made for the whole Christmas thing, and I’m not even taking into account the whole ‘hero’ aspect of it.”

Tony looks away then, feeling awful (or even _more_ awful) all of a sudden. He didn’t mean to bring _them_ down – he was kind of hoping they would cheer _him_ up.

“It was a good thing, Stark.” He looks up then, watching Natasha tilt her head at him, and shrug delicately, “I do believe most of Christmas consist of feeling miserable with family around you.”

“Yeah, Stark. Getting depressed, spending a lot on gifts people won’t like no matter what they are, eating more then you should – all the movies tell me this is the stuff” Clint says, raising a glass at him.

Tony looks around then, seeing them all looking a little bit less awkward, a little more in the moment and less wondering what the hell they’re doing here.

“Misery does love company, huh?” he mutters, and Clint lets out a loud cheer.

“To misery!”

They all toast, and he can see Rogers biting his lip to keep from laughing. Bruce’s eyes crinkling at the smile. Natasha looking as if she’s surrounded by idiots and loving every second of it.

“To company!” Steve toasts again, and they cheer louder, drinking in unison.

It’s not perfect and he does miss more often than not with the presents.

The food is good, though, and they drink more than they should, go to bed feeling stuffed and wake up the next morning to miserable weather that people insist on calling delightful, every single one of them on their floors, and feeling a little bit more like maybe, just maybe, they have a home.

And maybe, just maybe, someday, they will even call all these idiots around them family.

It is a pretty good Christmas after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think on a comment, or come say hello on [Tumblr](http://darkjan.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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